


The Cup Incident™

by bechloehuh



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Crack, F/F, Fluff, Mentions of Blood, and like falling on ones face i guess, and this is the start of it, just... complete and utter crack, this fandom needs to embrace the crackheadedness of one chloe beale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 04:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bechloehuh/pseuds/bechloehuh
Summary: If anyone asks, Beca didn’t fall first. Okay she fell, like, literally, but not emotionally. That was all on Chloe.(It’s not Chloe’s fault, she’ll claim, if anybody asks. Beca literally fell for her. How could she not be interested in her after that?)





	The Cup Incident™

**Author's Note:**

> Follows the plot of Pitch Perfect 1 but things change because... butterfly effect, I guess. Bechloe endgame.
> 
> Honestly, this is just pure crack, stemmed from an idea I had while drunk one night. "How funny would it be if, when Beca leaned over to grab the yellow cup for her audition, she just fuckin fell off the stage. Like... straight-up face planted the floor." And with some help throwing around ideas with @kendricks-annas, this AU happened. Sort of AU. It follows the Pitch Perfect storyline but a lot of things change. Like... Chloe is a complete psycho. This is me embracing that.
> 
> (All mistakes are mine. I apologize for the mess you are about to read, to be honest.)

If anyone asks, Beca didn’t fall first. Okay she fell, like, _literally_ , but not emotionally. That was all on Chloe.

(It’s not Chloe’s fault, she’ll claim, if anybody asks. Beca literally fell for her. How could she not be interested in her after that?)

* * *

 

She’s wandering around the activities fair looking for a job – since she’d been forced out of her dorm by her father – when she’s stopped by someone holding a flyer out to her and asking if she wants to join an acapella group. If she’s honest, she didn’t even know acapella was a thing until she saw a group of guys singing Whip It by Dazz Band on the quad five minutes ago. They sounded okay but also very obnoxious, and she’s not sure hanging around with that type of crowd would count as being, well, cool.

She’s not saying she’s cool, she’s just… not gonna join an acapella group. She’ll join _anything_ but the acapella group.

“Help us turn our dreams into a reality?”

The quidditch club has a better chance of getting her to join.

“Uh, I don’t even sing but it was really nice to meet you guys.”

She knows the girl – the redhead one, not the blonde – is disappointed. It’s kind of hard to walk away from _that_ face, but she manages.

She’s here to get this year over with so she can move to L.A and finally do what she loves. She doesn’t think about upsetting this girl because really, what are the odds that she’ll ever see her again?

* * *

“You _can_ sing!”

Honestly, fuck this school and its weird ass acapella singers who don’t know a thing about personal boundaries. She’s in the God damn shower. At midnight. Out of all the people she’d expect to barge into her shower at midnight, acapella girl isn’t one of them.

A murderer, maybe? Yes.

“Dude!”

“How high does your belt go?”

“My _what_?” She watches as the girl steps closer and leans in to turn the water off. She’s backed against the shower wall with nothing but her arms and a loofah to cover her chest. “Oh my God.”

“You _have_ to audition for the Bellas!”

Maybe this girl _is_ a murderer. Maybe this is where it all ends.

She wants to tell her to get out; wants to tell her she has mace in the pocket of the robe hanging on the shower stall – she doesn’t, but _she_ doesn’t know that – but what comes out is–

“I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying until you cover your junk.”

“Just… consider it. One time, we sang back up for _Prince_.”

And okay, she’s really not leaving. She’s really just… standing there, waiting for Beca to engage herself in this conversation, as if she isn’t _literally_ naked.

Beca reaches out for the shower curtain, trying to cover at least a little bit more of herself up. Shower girl just steps forward, grinning.

“His butt is so tiny that I can like, hold it in one hand.” And there goes the shower curtain. “Oops!”

“Oh, jeez– seriously? I am nude.”

If it wasn’t weird enough, Beca’s told that this girl masturbates to the song she was singing, as if that’s something that real people in the real world say to other real life people.

“Can you sing it for me?”

“Dude, no, get _out_!”

“Not for _that_ reason. I’m not leaving here until you sing, so…”

Her first impression of this girl was that she was pretty. Like, really, _really_ pretty. One would even say beautiful. But now she knows that she’s a fucking psycho, she’s starting to rethink her initial thoughts.

She sings because really, what else can you do when you’re butt naked in front of an equally butt naked stranger telling you that she will not leave until you sing for her? She sings because this girl, who’s name she doesn’t even know, could quite literally be a murderer, and she doesn’t want to be left for dead in a shower stall.

(Her biggest fear is literally being found dead, butt naked, and it’s about to come true unless she sings right the fuck now.)

So, she sings, and the girl joins in, and they sound kind of awesome, but Beca doesn’t _say_ that. She’s just happy that she’s still alive right now, despite the fact that she’s maybe like, traumatized for life.

It’s whatever.

She’s still not going to that stupid audition.

* * *

She goes to the stupid audition.

She has no idea why. Part of her wants to find out the name of the girl who cornered her in the shower, so she can maybe report her to the Dean, or get a restraining order. The other part of her wants to know why this singing group is _so_ important that this girl went to the extremes she did just to get her to audition.

She wonders, _why me?_

And of course, she had no idea that she had to sing a certain song. She was maybe hoping they could pick whatever they want, and okay, she didn’t prepare like, _anything_ , but that doesn’t matter either. She made it through high school without studying, she could’ve winged it.

But no. They have to sing Kelly Clarkson, of all songs.

She wouldn’t be surprised if shower girl picked the audition song. It seems like something she’d do.

Fucking Kelly Clarkson. And not even her best song, either.

“Um, I didn’t know we had to prepare that song.”

“That’s okay. Sing anything you want.”

The girl beside shower girl – blonde girl, Beca has named her for now – looks like she’s about to throw a tantrum when Beca starts to lean over for the yellow cup on their desk. She figures she can empty it and finally put that stupid song she learned at summer camp when she was thirteen to good use.

(Maybe it’ll wow shower girl and she’ll think Beca’s _too_ good to join their group, or maybe it’ll be terrible, and she’ll never have to see any of these people again. Both are good outcomes.)

But here’s the thing about Beca.

She’s kind of a dumbass.

And also like, really weak for girls with bright blue eyes like shower girl, apparently. _That’s_ new.

She’s too busy looking at her – mesmerized, she’d say, if she _had_ to put a word to it – to realize that she’d _hugely_ miscalculated just how far away the desk is from the stage, and just how small her body is; small enough to _not_ be able to reach the desk without stretching her whole body, and…

She fucking falls.

Taking the yellow cup full of pens with her, no less.

There’s gasps and the sound of the pens clattering on the floor as they fall, and it really says something about Beca that she’s more embarrassed that she fell than concerned about whether she’s going to like, survive.

She’s used to falling. She’s a tumbling mess like, always; always tripping over her feet, or walking into walls, or stubbing her toe on a table leg. She has bruises, half of the time, that seemingly show up out of nowhere. She’s prone to it.

But this is a _Fall_.

Like an _I’m-pretty-sure-my-nose-is-broken_ fall.

Like… an _is-it-normal-for-me-to-be-seeing-black-spots-right-now?_ fall.

A fall which should _not_ be followed by her standing up, picking the cup up off of the floor, and climbing back onto the stage.

“Oh my _God_ , are you okay?!”

She’s pretty sure the voice belongs to shower girl, but she doesn’t ask, or respond. She just sits down on the stage and places the cup in front of her, rubbing her hands together. She’s ready.

She blinks away the spots and ignores the fact that something is running down her face.

The girl wanted her to audition, she’s gonna do the God damn audition.

“Is she still gonna do the audition?” Someone asks. She doesn’t know who. “She should be like, unconscious or something after a fall like that, holy shit.”

“Dude her head is bleeding.”

“Was she always that pale?”

“She looks like she just got punched in the face.”

“Well, she did, technically, by the floor.”

She starts to clap, but she’s quickly stopped by a voice from in front of her. Her head is pounding and she can taste the familiar rustiness of blood in her mouth, and she kind of feels a little nauseous, if she’s being honest with herself.

(She _definitely_ shouldn’t do the audition.)

“Do you need a minute to like, gather yourself?”

“Nope, this is what you wanted.”

She sings it maybe a little angrier than she had initially intended, but it’s this damn shower girl’s fault for making her audition in the first place, which means it’s _her_ fault that she fell, and _her_ fault that she feels like she’s about to pass out right about now.

_“I’ve got my **ticket** for the **long** way round. Two bottles of **whiskey** for the way.”_

So, she sings it angrier than she intended, but she sings it nonetheless.

Bearing in mind, she has no recollection of… anything, before or after the fall, really. It’s taking all she has in her to remember the lyrics to this stupid song, but she sings it, God damn it.

(She does feel kind of bad for the cleaners when she spits blood out onto the stage. Nobody should have to deal with that.)

“Sweetheart, you’re bleeding!”

“ _Hey_ ,” she snaps, stopping mid song. “You wanted me to audition so I’m auditioning!”

She continues to sing, ignoring the murmurs of the people waiting in the wings to audition next. She has no idea what she looks like right now – she’s not sure she wants to – but judging by how hard she thinks she hit the floor, it’s… well, maybe it’s not good.

She just hopes nobody is recording this on their phone.

It’s one thing falling in front of a group of people. It’s another to go viral looking like she does right now.

Her head is pounding, and the room is spinning and– _uh, is it possible to die of a broken face?_

She slams the cup down once she’s finished, pushing her body off of the ground and standing. She wobbles a little but she manages to stay balanced as she slowly looks around the auditorium. The whole room is silent, as if waiting for a pin to drop – or a _Beca_ to drop, in this case – and yep, she feels it.

“Someone take me to a hospital.”

And, she’s gone.

* * *

At the beginning of her senior year, Chloe’s not quite sure what she expected.

She knew that nobody would want to join the Bellas after the disaster that was dubbed _Pukegate_ , which meant that she and Aubrey had to recruit freshman and well, they were desperate, for lack of a better word.

That’s the only reason she followed the voice singing Titanium in the showers that night.

(Sure, leaving her friend – not boyfriend, just friend, with added sexual benefits – in the shower stall with a boner and a vibrator wasn’t her best decision, but desperate times called for desperate measures.)

“I’ll be right back,” she told him. She wanted it to be quick, so they could get back to what they were doing before she heard that voice floating through the shower stalls, because she was super turned on, and super excited that Tom was willing to do this kind of stuff with her.

But that voice.

Aubrey would have had a field day if she was there with her.

(Not in _that_ way, though Chloe wouldn’t object to a threesome if the topic came up.)

She followed the voice and she was pleasantly surprised to see the girl that Aubrey had said was too alternative for them. She was also super shocked that this girl lied to _her_ , a total stranger, about how she doesn’t sing!

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t Chloe’s best moment, to corner this girl in the shower, but like she said – desperate times, desperate measures.

If she’s honest, she did truly expect this girl to show up at auditions. Chloe was kind to her, _welcoming_ to her; hell, even her friend – with added sexual benefits – told her she had a lovely voice after their duet. Who _wouldn’t_ want to be in a group with a kind person like herself?

(She’s not a narcissist, she swears.)

So, when the girl – who’s name Chloe still doesn’t know – showed up to auditions, ready to sing her little heart out, Chloe was _ready_. She’d heard her voice before, and she’d been gushing to Aubrey for a whole week about how good she’ll be for the Bellas; how _awes_ they sounded when they sang together. Though, she didn’t mention the shower part to Aubrey. _That_ , she’s not so proud of, when she looks back on it.

But then the girl literally fell off the stage, and oh God, this wasn’t part of the plan. She was supposed to _wow_ Aubrey, and Chloe would look at her with an _I-told-you-so face_ , and the Bellas would redeem themselves and the legacy would be passed on for generations to come, and…

And, this wasn’t the plan.

 _This_ being, sitting in the ER, waiting for news about whether this girl – who Chloe still doesn’t know the name of – is okay or not.

* * *

She closes her eyes, taps her foot, and waits.

She can’t help but think – in a moment of complete selfishness – how cute this story would be to tell their children.

“Ms. Beale?”

She looks up at the doctor, thankful that he’d broken her out of whatever the fuck that was and follows him when he tells her to.

There, sitting up in bed, is…

Damn it, Chloe still doesn’t know her name.

She doesn’t know her name but she can’t help but smile when she hears her quietly singing. It’s peaceful. Melodic. Chloe finds that she doesn’t want to interrupt.

“–touching me, touching you, sweet Caroline, BA BA BAAAA. Good times never f–seems so–oh, shit. Sorry. Hi.”

Chloe walks into the room, an amused smile on her face, sitting down on the chair beside her bed. She thinks about breaking the silence but instead, she waits for the girl to say something; maybe yell at her for being a weirdo and cornering her in the shower, or blaming her for all of this, or interrupting her singing session just now.

“Who are you?”

Chloe looks up, frowning, dread immediately setting in.

_Shit. She somehow got amnesia from the fall and she’s forgot everything and it’s all my fault and what am I gonna tell her family? Oh lord, what if she doesn’t remember her family? I did this to her! I–_

“Ha! Just kidding.” She points. “You should see your face right now.”

Chloe’s frown only deepens.

“You look like you’re about to burst into tears, are you okay?”

Chloe shakes her head, sighing.

“Kay. Cool.”

“How’s your, um… face?”

“Dope. They gave me pain meds so I can’t feel a thing. It’s so neat, you should try it.”

Chloe manages a smile, finally, since they arrived at the ER, and the girl quickly smiles back.

Her face is now free of blood but she has stitches on her eyebrow and a splint on her nose, and Chloe can’t shake the feeling that this is…

No.

_It’s not attractive, Chloe, she almost died._

(The voice in her head sounds a lot like Aubrey.)

“What’s your name?”

“What?”

“Your name. I… I still don’t know what your name is.”

The girl smiles slightly, as much as she can due to the broken nose and the gauze on her face.

“Beca.”

“Hi, um, I’m Chloe.”

“Chloe?”

“Beale.”

“Chloe Beale. Can you write that down so I can show my lawyer when I get a restraining order?”

Chloe’s eyes and mouth both widen at the same time, and she’s about to fall onto her knees and beg for forgiveness when Beca starts to laugh again, pointing at her face again as she does so.

“Dude, your face! Ha–ow.” She winces. “Ow, okay, no laughing.”

“You deserved that.”

“Wow.” She puts her heart to her chest. “And here I thought you were coming to apologize to me.”

“Apologize? Why should I apologize? You fell off the stage and were stupid enough to carry on singing.”

“I sang because _you_ wanted me to.”

Chloe gasps. “That was before you face planted the floor!”

“Don’t yell at me I have a concussion!”

Chloe snaps her mouth shut, frowning when Beca starts to laugh again.

“Ha, your face. That’s never gonna get old.”

“You’re kind of an asshole.”

Chloe tries not to notice how, under the splint and the gauze and the stitches, Beca’s smile is very, _very_ charming.

* * *

Beca’s dad arrives shortly after.

He spends about ten minutes trying to wrap his head around the fact that she fell off of a stage auditioning to be in an acapella group. She tells him it’s a long story and Chloe assumes that that’s the end of it.

He goes over everything with the doctor as Chloe sort of, sits awkwardly to the side. She doesn’t want to just get up and leave, but she kind of has nothing to offer now that Beca's dad is here.

She stays anyway.

* * *

Beca can’t shake the feeling that maybe Chloe stays for a reason.

There’s no reason for her to stay, and the doctor told Beca that she’ll be in over night just to be safe, so like, she doesn’t know but if she was Chloe, she’d use that as her cue to leave.

But Chloe stays, and Beca tries to ignore the fact that she keeps looking at her whenever she thinks Beca isn’t paying attention.

“So you really fell for me, huh?”

“Really?”

“Right, too soon, sorry.”

Beca laughs, despite herself, and she can’t help thinking that Chloe’s laugh is like, super adorable or whatever when she joins in.

Whatever. She’s still a bit of a psycho.

* * *

Chloe buys her food, despite the fact that Beca said that it hurts to eat. She figures it’s the least she can do since, ever since they met, Chloe’s kind of… well, it hasn’t been the most _normal_ start to... whatever this is.

“I’m sorry about the shower, by the way,” Chloe tells her as she eats the sandwich that she bought for Beca. “It was, uh…”

“Completely bat shit insane?”

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

Eventually, after dragging out the visit for as long as possible, visiting hours end, and Chloe leaves with another apology and an awkward wave. She lingers at the door and takes it all in. Beca – who’s name she’s like, really glad she knows now – looks so small in the hospital bed; hooked up to an IV drip that is currently keeping Beca from being in too much pain, a shy smile on her face as her dad sits down in the chair that Chloe was just sitting in, telling her that he was worried about her; in any other circumstance, Chloe would think it was sad. If she didn’t know what had happened, she’d be scared.

All she feels is hope and excitement that Beca agreed that it would be okay to visit her first thing tomorrow morning.

* * *

When she gets home and collapses on the couch, Aubrey is making dinner in the kitchen. She closes her eyes and breathes in the smell of her best friend’s cooking, which is abruptly interrupted by a towel smacking her in the face.

“Ow! What the–”

“–Well? I take it by the look on your face she’s okay.”

Chloe, as if suddenly remembering that Beca falling on her face at auditions happened in front of like, everyone, nods her head yes, telling Aubrey that she has to stay overnight, and she’s broken her nose, but she’ll be okay.

“Ew, Chloe, you _like_ her!”

“What?!”

“Your face is doing that thing it does when you tell me about your overtly sexual… _activities_ with Tom.”

Chloe huffs, sitting up and throwing the towel back to Aubrey. It flops onto the floor halfway between the couch and the kitchen, and Aubrey sighs as she walks over to pick it up.

She follows her into the kitchen, breathing in the scent of Aubrey’s cooking once again as Aubrey opens the oven to pull the food out.

“She’s like, really cute, Bree.”

“I do _not_ want to know.”

“Sorry! She’s just–she’s so _brave_ , isn’t she?”

“Chloe she was spitting blood.”

“Right, I was concerned but like, it was also kinda sexy.”

Aubrey turns around, her eyes narrow. She looks like she’s about to say something but she just closes her mouth and shakes her head; something she does a lot whenever Chloe, well, talks.

“Did you at least tell her she made it into the Bellas? It’s the least we could do since she literally like, risked her life to audition.”

“Um. Yeah. Of course.”

“Chloe!”

“I’m sorry! I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

* * *

The rule of kidnapping the Bellas and taking them to an undisclosed location to officially initiate them is out of the question, since Beca is in the hospital, but that doesn’t stop Chloe from trying.

“Hi, um, nurse? Can I borrow her for like, an hour, two hours tops?”

“Ma’am, she’s not in a stable enough condition to leave just yet.”

“But she’s leaving soon though, right? What harm could leaving a few hours early do?”

“You are aware she could have died, right?”

“Pretty please? I’ll bring her back!”

“I… I don’t know what to tell you.”

“It’s like, super important. It’s for our acapella group! Funny story, actually, but she was auditioning for it when she fell, so that’s why she’s in here. But yeah, she made it into the group!”

“Oh, it’s for _acapella_? Why didn’t you say? Of _course_ , you can take her.”

“Really?!”

“No! What is wrong with you?!”

She’s kind of offended at first, but then she realizes the nurse probably knows best, she guesses. Whatever.

* * *

When Chloe told her that she’ll be back tomorrow to visit her, Beca figured she was just being nice.

After all, they don’t really know each other. Not enough to like, visit each other in hospitals anyway. But true to her word, Chloe visits. She brings flowers and a slice of pie which Beca has to politely decline because it hurts too much to eat, so Chloe promises her that she’ll buy her a milkshake or smoothie when she’s out.

“How did you sleep?”

“I didn’t, really.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You didn’t have to get me flowers, you know. I’m leaving in a few hours anyway.”

“They’re congratulations flowers.”

“What for?”

“You made it into the Bellas!”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

* * *

Chloe drops Beca off at her dorm and proceeds to drill every single thing that the nurse told her into Kimmy Jin, who at least looks a little sympathetic. Apparently the word got around about the chick who busted up her face at auditions.

Some people say she fell trying to do a backflip, others say she got in a fight with another auditionee who wouldn’t leave the stage without another shot at singing.

Beca’s not sure she wants to stop the rumors.

(They are, after all, a lot more badass than what actually happened.)

Chloe insists on tucking her into bed, even though Beca just wants to get back to finishing the mix she started before the audition. But Chloe is pushing her and lifting her legs up onto the bed so she can untie her shoes, and draping blankets over her, and it’s all a little much.

She leaves Beca’s mango smoothie on the shelf beside her bed and kisses her on the cheek before she leaves, telling her that she’ll be back tomorrow to see how she’s doing.

Beca tries to tell her that it’s not necessary, but Chloe is gone before she can say anything.

* * *

“So, I’m pretty sure I’m in love with Beca.”

She’s pretty sure Aubrey breathes in a quick gasp so she has enough air in her lungs to yell at Chloe for how wrong that is, given what happened, but she can only half suck in the gasp before she’s choking on her wine and coughing it up into her napkin.

“You what?!”

She’s still coughing when she asks, and Chloe is about to tell her to have a drink of water when she realizes, yeah, that’s not what she needs right now.

“I can’t help it.”

“Who’s the one with the concussion, again?”

“I’m serious, Bree.”

“So am I, _Chloe_. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Chloe nudges her noodles with her fork, pouting. She knows Aubrey isn’t actually mad at her – dumbfounded, maybe, but not mad – but it’s still kind of sad. She’s fallen in love with a girl who, Chloe’s pretty sure, doesn’t even _like_ her.

“Wh– it’s not like there’s anything wrong with her! She only fell off the stage.”

“That’s not what I mean, I’m just… you’ve known this girl for what, a week? Do you even know what her second name is?”

“Beca… freshman.”

_“Chloe.”_

There’s a warning in her tone that Chloe always hates to hear, though she’s not exactly sure what Aubrey is warning her _of_.

So she thinks she may like this girl, like, a lot? What’s so wrong with that?

* * *

**_-knock knock-_ **

“Kimmy, is that–” She turns around, but Kimmy Jin isn’t there.

**_-knock knock-_ **

Beca sighs, saving her mix and pushing her chair back before making her way over to the door.

“Dad if this is another one of your– oh, it’s you. Hey. Come in.”

Chloe’s smile is bright and wonderful as she practically bounces into Beca’s dorm, dropping down onto her bed as she holds out one of the iced coffees that she bought on the way over to Baker Hall. It’s from the coffee shop that Beca mentioned, offhandedly, that she liked a few days ago, so Chloe made sure to stop just for her.

It’s only been a few days since, what Chloe has dubbed, the Cup Incident™, but Beca thinks that maybe, if she were to put a word to their thing, Chloe is her friend.

Which she’s oddly okay with – because despite the fact that a couple of weeks ago, she thought this girl was going to murder her in the communal showers – Chloe is actually really funny, and sweet, and they have a lot in common.

The day after Beca returned home from the hospital, Chloe had showed up at her dorm, as she promised, and insisted that they get to know each other since they’re now Bella sisters.

(“Do you do this with all the new recruits?” Beca asked.

“Only the ones I _really_ like,” was Chloe’s response, followed up by a wink which Beca refused to admit made her heart beat speed up.)

They spent hours listening to music; Chloe asking questions, Beca answering them begrudgingly, and Chloe answering her own questions, followed up by _more_ questions.

If Beca’s honest, and she hates to admit this, she like, really likes Chloe.

Yeah. So _that’s_ new.

“This is for you,” Chloe hands the coffee to Beca. “Without milk, just how you like it.”

“How the hell did you know that? Please tell me you didn’t like, go through my trash to find a receipt or something.”

“Ew, no! You told me on Wednesday.”

“Oh, right. Um, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to check up on you, silly!”

“Chlo, you know I’m like okay, right?”

Chloe hesitates before she answers.

“I just like seeing you.”

“Why? I’m literally like, the worst company.”

“No, you’re not.” Chloe says. “I like spending time with you.”

“You’re super weird.”

“Thanks!”

* * *

The thing about Chloe Beale is, she knows she can be a lot.

She knows she loves easily and cares too deeply. To anyone else, falling in love with a girl who she wasn’t even aware existed three weeks ago would be stupid, but to Chloe it just makes sense.

Aubrey tells her she’s acting like she’s on drugs.

Chloe, honestly, doesn’t care.

* * *

It doesn’t take long for Beca to get used to having Chloe around like, all the time.

By the time her face heals completely, the Bellas have been practicing for a month. She no longer has a splint on her nose, her eyes are no longer bruised or swollen, and the stitches she had to have on her forehead were removed three weeks ago. Her face is like, back to being a normal human face.

It shouldn’t surprise her, really, when Chloe walks into her dorm room one day – unannounced, though Beca’s used to it now – and tells her that she looks pretty.

“What?” She asks because… what?

“You look pretty. Like, you always look pretty but today you look extra pretty.” She reaches her arm over the distance between them, with her sitting on the bed and Beca sitting at her desk, and tucks a piece of hair behind Beca’s ear. “I just don’t think I’ve ever told you that before.”

“No, you haven’t.”

“You looked pretty with your splint on too but like, I’m glad I can see your whole face now.”

“Can I tell you something, Chloe?” Chloe nods, eyes shining. “You’re a very, _very_ weird person.”

“Thanks!”

* * *

The year goes by quicker than Beca would have liked.

A lot of things happen.

The Bellas get kicked out of a frat house performance. Beca trips on the way out. She sees the panic in Chloe’s eyes immediately, but she stands up and tells everyone that she’s _fine_. Aubrey calls her an idiot and then proceeds to lecture them about how everything they did today was _wrong_.

Jesse Swanson, Treblemaker and coworker – _not_ friend, even if he does call himself that sometimes – asks her out roughly six times before she tells him that they’re not, and will not ever, be a thing. It’s harsh but it’s true, and he respects her decision.

She hangs out with Chloe pretty much every day. They walk home together after Bella rehearsals, eat lunch together on the quad, and Beca even hangs out at Chloe and Aubrey’s place a few times. She gets food poisoning when Chloe tries to cook them a meal, but it’s sort of worth it when Chloe spends a whole two days getting her anything and everything that she requests.

(She asks Chloe to get her a new pair of headphones, and has to stop Chloe from running out of the door and heading to the Mall because “Chloe, dude, chill, I was joking.”

She’s touched that Chloe would actually, like, do that for her.)

They have a riff-off which they won, if anyone asks her. They did _not_ lose because of a stupid technicality.

She gets arrested. Rumor spreads that she punched a guy in the face – which she _did_ do, but she wasn’t arrested for that – and again, she doesn’t try to dispel any of them.

(It sounds a lot cooler than _“I was trying to take the Treblemakers’ trophy out of my friends hands before she broke it or did other things with it that I don’t want to talk about, and it ended up breaking anyway and shattering a window, and I was the one who got into trouble for it because I’m a dumbass and I didn’t run away.”_ )

Fat Amy gets shot with a burrito and that’s not important but Beca needs everyone to know that it actually happened. Like, in what world do things like that happen? In worlds where people fall off stages and break their face, she guesses.

The Bellas don’t make it to Nationals.

That’s not her fault either.

* * *

She ignores Chloe’s calls and texts for weeks and spends as little time at her own dorm than she’d like to. The time she spends _not_ at her dorm is either in class or at her dad’s house, and okay, she’s not the biggest fan of Sheila but she makes really good Lasagna, so she puts up with it.

It’s a week into Spring Break and they’re in the middle of eating meatloaf for dinner – it’s not lasagna but it’s still really good, Beca admits – when she gets the text that makes her immediately forget that she’s supposed to be ignoring Chloe in the first place.

 **Crackhead:** I know that I haven’t been the best friend in the world but I’m in the hospital getting my nodes removed and I just want you to know, if I die, I’m really glad that I met you.

“Um, may I be excused?”

Her dad nods and Sheila looks confused, but she pushes her chair back and starts typing back a text as she leaves the kitchen.

 **Beca-bear:** you won’t die, beale, you’re gonna be fine. I’ll be there soon

She pockets her phone, stopping dead in her tracks, before turning around and heading back into the kitchen.

“Hey dad, can I borrow your car?”

* * *

By the time she makes it to the hospital, Chloe’s surgery is over and she’s asleep in one of the hospital beds. She has an IV drip attached to her arm and she’s devoid of makeup and her hair is greasy but Beca notes that she’s never looked so beautiful.

Okay, maybe she’s only saying that because it seems like the right thing to say, but she does look unfairly attractive.

She places the flowers on the stand beside Chloe’s hospital bed and sits down on the chair, putting her earphones in and pressing play on the Taylor Swift album that Chloe loves, as she waits for her to wake up.

She doesn’t know when she fell asleep, but when she wakes up, Chloe is tugging on her earphones.

“What–”

“Oh.”

Her voice is raspy and hardly-there, and she quickly slaps a hand over her mouth as if remembering that she’s not allowed to speak. Beca smiles at that, wordlessly handing over one of the earbuds as she leans forward in her seat.

Chloe’s eyes widen when she hears Long Live start playing.

“I know, I know. Don’t say a word.”

Chloe mimes zipping her mouth shut, and despite the tired look in her eye, her smile still manages to take Beca’s breath away.

* * *

Beca visits the next day, and then the next, until Chloe is allowed to go home.

It hurts, a little, to see Chloe in so much pain after the surgery. Beca wonders if this is how Chloe felt at the beginning of the year when _she_ was in hospital.

She tries not to blush when Chloe thanks her with a kiss to her cheek after she buys her a mango smoothie, just like Chloe had for her.

She knows it’s because Chloe can’t actually voice her thanks, but it still causes her heart to skip a beat and her skin to burn from where she kissed her.

* * *

**_-knock knock-_ **

“Kimmy.” She turns around. “Okay, I swear she was here like five minutes ago, how can she leave so quietly?”

**_-knock knock-_ **

She gets up, walking over to the door and with a sigh, she opens it.

“Chloe? What are you doing, you’re supposed to be resting!”

Chloe is grinning at her, holding up an iced coffee and a paper bag, and then she speaks.

“It’s been two weeks, I can officially speak.”

She had no idea how much she missed that voice.

Chloe drops down onto her bed, and Beca almost forgets that any time has passed since they were last hanging out, listening to music and trying to one up each other’s _‘my family is more dysfunctional than your family’_ stories.

She doesn’t realize that her face has fallen until she sees the worry in Chloe’s eyes as she pats the bed beside her.

“I can’t stay for long but I have good news,” she says. “The Bellas are back in the competition! Apparently, the leader of the Footnotes is actually in high school and they got disqualified.”

Beca remembers her outburst a few weeks prior.

_If this is what I get for trying._

She still thinks about the look on Chloe’s face before she quit.

“Beca?”

“That’s great, Chlo, I’m really happy for you guys.”

“What do you mean? You’re… Beca.”

“Look, the group is better without me. Aubrey doesn’t want me back in.”

Beca hates that the first thing that comes into her mind when Chloe frowns is _‘holy shit, she’s fucking adorable.’_

Chloe puts her hand on Beca’s knee and she thinks maybe it’s to comfort her but it just _burns_.

“Bec, Aubrey’s just… She doesn’t like to lose. She’ll have you back, I know she will.”

“What if I don’t want to come back?”

Chloe removes her hand and Beca’s not sure which hurts more; it burns when Chloe touches her but it aches when she doesn’t.

That’s new, too.

“Beca, look at me, I– oh, your nose.”

“What?”

“It’s bleeding.”

“Crap.”

Chloe puts a hand on her shoulder, telling her to stay where she is as she runs to the bathroom to get some toilet paper. It’s not necessary, since Beca’s perfectly capable, but Beca just lets her.

She can’t help but notice that when Chloe sits back down next to her on the bed, there’s a lot less distance between them.

Chloe dabs the paper on the trickle of blood coming from her nostril and cups her face with her free hand. Beca’s not sure that’s necessary either, but she doesn’t protest.

With Chloe this close to her, it’s really hard to.

She thinks about the beginning of the year, and the weird circumstances in which they met under. She thinks about the video of her falling off the stage circling around, and people recognizing her as the chick who fell for Chloe Beale – which is really dumb, she thinks, but not at all untrue.

It’s just that Aubrey was there too but… that doesn’t matter.

“Um,” she clears her throat, and Chloe removes the toilet paper, but stays close to her, still cupping her face.

“Beca, we need you,” Chloe whispers. Her eyes drop to Chloe’s lips when she says it, which she can’t help. If she looks Chloe in the eye, she’ll probably have a mental breakdown or something.

Chloe sighs.

“ _I_ need you.”

Beca’s not sure who starts to lean in first, but it doesn’t really matter.

The fact that all of this started with Chloe refusing to let her pass on the audition kind of makes Beca think it was Chloe who kissed her first, but no – it really doesn’t matter.

Chloe’s lips are soft and tender. Delicate fingers dance down her face, sliding down to the back of her neck where she then slips her hand into her hair.

Another trickle of blood runs down from Beca’s nose and Chloe pulls back.

“You have, um,” Beca licks her lips, her eyes feeling heavy all of a sudden. “You have blood on your face.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Chloe rasps. “Kiss me again.”

* * *

She bounces into rehearsals like a child on Christmas morning.

“Chloe, you have blood on your face!”

Aubrey is the only one there – always one to be early – and Chloe smiles dreamily as she sits down on the bleachers.

“It’s not mine, it’s Beca’s.”

“What the–ew!”

“What?! We only kissed, it was cute!”

“What happened?”

“Her nose started bleeding.”

“Gross. I’m surprised she didn’t get into another fight.”

“Hmm. Ha. Yeah. You should see the other guy.”

Aubrey shoots a disgusted look at Chloe’s wink before handing her a new setlist. “The _floor_ was the other guy, Chloe, the cleaners couldn’t get the blood out.”

“What can I say, it’s true love.”

“She literally had to be hospitalized.”

“It’s like Romeo and Juliet.”

“It’s _nothing_ like that.”

Aubrey sits beside her, back straight and one leg crossed over the other, as they wait for the other Bellas to arrive.

“So, you and Beca?”

Chloe grins, nodding. “I told you, it’s true love.”

Aubrey sighs.

* * *

When Beca shows up asking for forgiveness, Chloe notices that she’s wearing a scarf to hide the hickey that Chloe had given her just a few hours before.

She’s oddly proud.

And very much in love.

* * *

They win the ICCA’s.

They win, and Beca feels like she’s in a completely different universe. One where acapella is something she actually cares about, along with weird chicks who burst into her shower stall demanding she sing her lady jam to her, and… Really, she could go on and on about how weird Chloe is; about what Chloe is to her, and why she even likes her in the first place.

Chloe’s a lot of things; a bit of a psycho, a complete weirdo, a crackhead – in Beca’s words – and a complete sweetheart. But she’s also Beca’s girlfriend now, and if their kids asked how they met, Beca already has a few made-up stories in her head that one day, she’ll hopefully get to tell.

 _None_ of them include the Cup Incident™.


End file.
